Of omelettes and snow
by StarsOfYaoi
Summary: *FraIta one-shot* one morning in Venice, with snow raging outside and omelettes freshly made. Fluff, smut - warning for lemon situation.


**SOY:** written a few days ago, watching the snow rage outside (am in Venice). It's just a short fill for the kink meme (again. You have a lot of chances to have me write you a fill there, especially if the request regards Italy uke).

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**Rating**: R for short lemon in the end.

**Warnings:** lime–lemon.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Hetalia.

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**Of omelettes and snow**

**One–shot**

Italy stretched lazily on the bed, feeling the blanket roll down from his hips, uncovering him to the cool air of the bedroom, and shivered, curling into a small ball in a vain attempt to regain some body heat.

Eyes peering open, blinking up, Italy let his eyes trail to the window, vaguely surprised to see snow outside. Yes, the weather news had warned it might snow, but he hadn't believed it; yet, there it was –white candid snowflakes were raging outside the window, covering the rooftops and the trees in front of the house.

There was clearly a lot of wind, too –he was almost sure he'd seen a flying cat moments before, but he wouldn't bet his pasta on it.

The tree right outside the window shook wildly, its branches bending to the right, snow flying everywhere.

Suddenly, he wasn't all that keen in leaving his bed, and grasped the fallen blanket, pulling it above his head and curling even more inside his cocoon. Slowly, his cooling limbs found some heat again, and he purred contentedly.

To hell with everything, he really didn't want to leave the room.

Huddling against the giant pillow, Italy nuzzled at it, ready to fall back to sleep and let the morning pass.

The door of the bedroom was pushed open, but the Italian Nation didn't move, content in just resting, and didn't look up even when the bed creaked under a sudden added weight, the mattress bouncing slightly.

"_Bonjour, petit_ Feli~"

A soft kiss was pressed on his naked shoulder, blond hair tickling his nose, and Italy giggled lightly, letting go of his pillow when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest.

Fingers intertwining over Corsica, Italy was pulled against a firm frame, coarse stubble rubbing at the back of his neck as more kisses were pressed onto his shoulder blades, his neck and up to his cheeks.

"_Buongiorno_, Francis~" he murmured, yawning and shivering when a tight slithered between his leg, pressing higher. "Did you see the snow?"

"_Oui_… The weather report said it will probably snow all day," was the reply. "I guess it's better to stay home today… _non_?"

"Hmmm…"

Suddenly having his head exposed again, Italy's nostrils picked up the strong smell of freshly made coffee and the sweet scent of omelettes in the air, and smiled. "Ve~ you made breakfast?"

A chuckle from France, his arms tightening more around his frame.

"Apple and honey," each word was punctuated with a kiss, until he reached the awaiting lips of Italy, gently nibbling at them before kissing him properly, tongue slipping in.

It was clear the Frenchman had already eaten one, because his mouth tasted sweet, and Italy responded to the kiss, lapping at the other's lips for a moment before he pulled away, his belly rumbling.

"mmm'hungry," he yawned again, but there was enough of an incentive to wake up now, so he pulled out from France's arms and sat up.

Stretching, he offered an enticing view to France, who smiled and watched all the naked skin covered with red spots and hickeys with pride.

Francis chuckled, pushing the tray with the food to his lover, and watched him hum in pleasure, grabbing the coffee first and downing it, licking his lips and savouring the bitter taste.

"I cannot see, for the life of me, how you can stand that without either milk or sugar" France shook his head, amused, and leaned back against the wall, observing Italy cut a piece of omelette.

"I like cappuccino too, you know~" much more awake now that coffee was running in his veins, Italy giggled and munched on the omelette, allowing the smooth, soft sweetness to contrast the bitterness of the coffee. "But I need espresso to wake up~"

Francis smirked, observing how the other's lips closed around the food, almost teasing him, tasting the omelette with something akin to delight. "Do I get a taste?"

Italy giggled, cutting a small piece and holding the fork up to France's mouth, brown eyes staring in rapture as France's tongue flickered out to the omelette, catching a trail of honey rolling down the edge of the fork and then surrounding the food, retreating a moment later, swallowing.

"Delicious, if I can say that myself" Francis smirked again as Italy shook his head, biting down on the omelette, honey dribbling down his chin.

"Ve~ Brother Francis always makes the best omelettes ever…"

With a shiver, France leaned forwards, lapping at the honey; Italy's eyes closed, nudging France up to his lips again, some moments spent kissing as the omelettes cooled down.

"I told you not to call me brother anymore… it's strange," the Frenchman reprimanded, nuzzling at the other's chin and propping himself up again. "You don't usually make love with your brother, _non_?"

"Not true~ you like it when I call you that… in bed" with a wink, Italy resumed eating the omelette, leaving a definitely aroused and embarrassed France at his side.

"I refuse to admit that" he muttered, one hand sneaking around Italy's waist again, pulling the other nation to his lap. Italy squealed, feeling his naked backside come in contact with France's hardening length, and turned around to softly kiss his chin, wrinkling his nose at the stubby beard.

"Brother Francis~" he purred, wriggling a bit, then he gasped at the quick reaction of France's hardened member now pressing against his lower back. "See~? You do like it~"

Flushing crimson, France looked to the side, poking at Italy's ribs and hissing as the other wriggled again.

They had a quite healthy sex life –after all, France loved sex, and once initiated, Italy also developed an appetite for it– and he really didn't mind the prospect of spending the whole day rolling in bed… literally.

There were still a lot of things he could teach Italy…

Gently pressing soft kisses on the creamy skin he had at hand, Francis made it harder for the Italian nation to concentrate on his food, licking and nibbling at his neck until Feliciano threw his head backwards, offering one sticky hand for him to lick.

Tongue flickering out, Francis licked the fingers clean from honey, sucking on each digit, his hands moving higher to circle Feliciano's nipples; with a soft moan, the Italian tried turning around, but the gentle touches, and Francis' tongue still lavishing his fingers with attention were far too distracting.

"You taste delicious" France murmured, tongue leaving Italy's fingers to lick his curl instead. "Let me see you touch yourself, _petit_ Feli…"

With a shiver, cheeks terribly flushed, Feliciano obeyed, his own hands replacing Francis' over his nipples, shifting lower to circle at his growing erection, lips parting with a soft moan as he wrapped his fingers around his length, gently massaging it.

France pushed his legs further apart to watch better, one hand grabbing a piece of omelette and pushing it to Italy's lips, leaning forwards to share the bite with him.

Italy gasped, wriggling, his fingers tightening their hold on his erection, France's hand moving around his own to aid him…

Trrrrr–

"_La chiamavano Bocca di Rosa, metteva l'amore, metteva l'amore, la chiamavano Bocca di Rosa–"_

Trrrrr–

Stumbling down from Francis' lap, Feliciano managed to evade the tray of food and grabbed his cell phone, flicking it open with a movement of his wrist, offering Francis a delightful view of his ass as he laid with his stomach down. "_Pronto~?_"

Blinking and snapping his fingers in annoyance, France was not someone to be stopped from having sex; he moved on all four on the double bed, removing the tray from the mattress and putting it on the nearby bedside table, crawling until he was on top of Italy's back.

Italy huffed out at the sudden weight on him, but didn't turn around, talking on the phone. "Ve~ Ludwig, _buongiorno_…"

France let a trail of kisses down Italy's back, nibbling at the skin, rubbing the length of his erection against the creak of the other's ass, gasping out at the feeling, and the Italian took a deep, unsteady breath, trying to push his legs apart for him.

"Hmmm… no, I don't think I can come over, Ludwig… it's snowing hard, it's so white outside~" he gasped when one of France's fingers rubbed at his entrance's muscles, something sticky dribbling inside. "Ah… a–and…"

Removing the phone from his lover's fingers with his free hand, France pressed it against his ear. "And of course, _Allemagne_, I'm with him, so _petit_ Feli won't be moving a~ll day".

He was aware of Germany spluttering on the other end, and he could just picture him blushing and stiffening in shock, probably with very delectable and perverted things on repeat over and over in his mind (Germany was the heaven of pornography, after all), and it made him chuckle loudly.

The phone was shut a moment later, and then all of his attention was back where it belonged.

"Ve~ brother Francis…" despite his pout, Italy's eyes were narrowed in lust, and he easily turned around, arms wrapped around France's neck. "You lied to Ludwig~"

"How so?" nuzzling at the Italian man's cheek, France let his hands resume their previous work. "We won't be leaving this bed".

"Bu~t you said I wouldn't move… and I plan on moving a who~le lot, _brother_ Francis~"

Leaning down, France kissed Italy once again, smiling when Italy held him closer. "I think I turned you into a pervert, Feli…" a chuckle "and I really like it".

"Ve~ but I love you anyway! Or I wouldn't be with you~" brown eyes staring into his own, open and honest, made France's heart flutter in his chest. "I love Francis with all of my heart, and all of me belongs to you".

Yes, that thing Francis had in his chest was definitely fluttering with warmth.

Things hadn't even been planned –he'd thought he would just nail Italy and be done with it, moving to the next challenge, and instead he'd been captured and held close, and without even realising it, his heart now belonged to this Italian, this person who was as passionate and as romantic as he was.

Maybe Francis had acted quite silly throughout his life, but if he thought that in the end, his actions had landed him in Italy's bed, sharing more than just breakfast and morning sex, well, he could consider himself the happiest and luckiest person ever.

This was something worthier than just nailing other Nations.

"_Je t'aime aussi, petit Feli_…" he murmured back, glancing at the snow still raging outside. The white filled his vision, candid yet storming with the same intensity as his own feelings.

It was fitting, in a way.

"Let's continue playing, _non_? That call was really a turnoff" he pouted, pushing his hips against Italy's, groaning as his erection humped the other's.

Feliciano giggled, shaking his head –Francis was just as hard as before, so of course he hadn't been put off by the call in the least.

"Francis is a pe~rv~"

Stealing a kiss, eating away Italy's laugh with his lips, France breathed deeply and let his hands wander, brushing at all the naked body underneath his own, welcoming Italy's daring touches as well…

Fingers massaging his chest, his nipples, teeth pulling at his earlobe, a hand gently mapping his erection, hot and lithe, groping, tugging–

France groaned in pleasure, bucking into the touch and returning it, his own fingers reaching lower and lower, sneaking down…

"Ah… y–yes…" Italy parted his legs more, hooking them around France's waist, and busied himself with kissing and sucking red spots on the other's neck, eyes rolling in the back of his head as soon as fingers penetrated him. "Nnnnn– t–there…"

Keeping his fingers still, France moved his body up, erections shifting against each other, Italy's hand moving to cup at his balls, trying to give as much pleasure as he could.

France took Italy's curl into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth. Italy wailed, faltering in his motions, hands loosening their hold as his entire body shook in pleasure, writhing and trembling.

"Aaaah… noo… m–my curl… ah…"

Taking pity of his lover, flushed and terribly aroused, France gently prodded at the muscles of Italy's entrance, already loosened as they had enjoyed themselves the evening before, and used the sticky lube still on the nightstand to prepare adequately the Italian, who unashamedly moaned and writhed in his arms, trying to look as much arousing as he could.

Arching his back, mewling loudly France's name, clenching his inner muscles around the other's fingers, his own hands tugging and pumping France's erection…

"Tease," France groaned, hips bucking into the touch, rubbing one, two, then three fingers in, scissoring and pushing the muscles, the skin, searching for that one spot that would…

"Only for you, _brother_ Francis…"

Blood rushing to his face, he pushed his fingers in, stretching with a quick movement, aiming for–

"Ah!" Italy arched in his arms, biting down on France's shoulder, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the Frenchman's chest.

Pushing against the prostate with his middle finger, rubbing at that small spot that sent the other wild over and over, France pushed closer, tongue battling with Italy, robbing him of his breath–

"Ah… n… no… s–slow… down…" Italy was unable to stay still, panting and gasping, pushing up against France, thrashing wildly, unable to escape the strong waves of pleasure…

It was almost a shock for France to see how close Italy was to coming already, but it was clear by how responsive his body was, how aroused, needy–

"Oh… p-please… Francis… please… I need you inside… _now_…"

It wasn't just Italy, though –the mere sight, the thought that his lover was this close, trashing in bed because of just his fingers inside… France felt a familiar tug in his stomach, a coiling heat burning through his body…

How could he lose control so easily, so readily…

"Francis, _per favore… ho bisogno che tu_…"

Chuckling at his lover's words in his own language, France gently parted his legs even more, removing his fingers and aligning his straining erection to the other's entrance, pushing inside.

He slipped in easily, aided by lube and relaxed muscles, until he was completely sheathed, groaning and trying to keep still until Italy gave him the signal to move.

"Is it ok, Feli?"

A soft nod, a gasp –France pushed back inside, watching Italy's eyes flutter close.

Shivering and holding onto France's body tightly, Italy sought out the other's lips, coaxing them in a slow, searing kiss; fingers intertwining, bodies moved in a rhythm, sensually arching and rubbing against each other, complementary.

"F–Francis…"

One hand cupping around Italy's leaking erection, massaging it, hips moving, rotating slowly, trying to keep the pace to a leisure rhythm, not wanting it to be over too soon, but the constricting heat around France's length was far too demanding, pleasure rocking all over his body…

"Oh, _petit_ Feli… you're so tight…"

Italy cried out, feeling the familiar burning pleasure choke him, nails digging into France's shoulders–

"Francis… ah… I'm–"

Kissing Italy's parted lips, the grip of their joined hands tightening, France pushed inside one last time, allowing the heat and pleasure to wash through him, Italy's muscles clenching so tightly around his erection a telltale sign that they had reached orgasm together.

Warm and tingly, France jerked his hips for a few more thrusts, riding his climax with eyes wide open, staring at his beautiful Italy's face flushed in pleasure.

The Italian Nation flopped on the bed, boneless and humming with the afterglow pleasure, France's mouth gently sucking on his chest, moving lower with every kiss and nibble and lick; the warm, loving gestures made him shiver, eyes trailing to the window as he allowed France to lavish him with attention, giggling and moaning at the massaging hands on his tights.

"Is it still raging outside, Feli?" France licked a path down to Italy's softened erection, cleaning the sticky juices with slow, sensual flickers of his tongue.

"Ahn… y–yes…" the white was still covering everything, the trees bending to the strong wind.

France hummed contentedly.

"Then we shall make a storm of our own inside, Feliciano" he purred.

Italy's giggles quickly turned into heart–felt moans.

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**SOY:** I tried to make it less steamy and more… uh, fluff, maybe. Or something. It's actually my first FraIta that is not dub–con… ^^;;; but I liked writing it, so I hope people will also like.

_Bonjour (French)_ – Good morning

_Petit (French)_ – little

_Buongiorno (Italian)_ – good morning

_Oui (French)_ – yes

_Non (French)_ – no

_La chiamavano Bocca di Rosa metteva l'amore metteva l'amore, la chiamavano Bocca di Rosa (Italian)_ – the start of a famous Italian song by Fabrizio de' André, about a prostitute coming into a small village, who made love because she loved it. It's… less vulgar than it sounds, I swear.

_Pronto (Italian)_ – hello (on the phone)

_Allemagne (French)_ – Germany

_Je t'aime aussi (French)_ – I love you too

_Per favore… ho bisogno che tu (__Italian)_ – Please… I need you to…


End file.
